All Star
by freemanrage
Summary: Remake to Floosh. Kyle's basketball skills are put into question when a girl and her small family move to town. After a while, the idea of the two working together seems like an impossible task. No longer accepting OCs.
1. Chapter 1

** Welcome to the wonderful world of remakes. Of Floosh, if you want to get technical. **

** The reason I wished to re-make this was before Floosh was going no where and Christy has gone through some very healthy character development so I wanted to express that where I wouldn't have to continue Floosh and work with her actual self elsewhere. Get it?**

** OC's I am using:**

** Addie McVim ~ PurplePandaPimp **

** Tuesday Acqua ~ California Gore **

**Reggie Rox and Chad Brookes ~ SmartZombie**

** Vean Redden ~ CVillianS -brotherlovelovelove-**

**Elsa Hunter ~ xXBeyondBirthdayXx**

** Adrian Keenan ~ **

** Sadie Broflovski and Mallory Sacramento ~ MilaDreamer **

** Nicholas Acqua ~ Tight Hold On Death**

** Rose Dewitt ~ Laura**

** Laura and Lloyd McCarthy ~ Noodle311**

** All these fine OC's and their amazingly fine owners deserve a special spot right there. -heart-**

** I'll stop rambling now and get to the story.**

* * *

_Kyle's POV_

I don't get jealous. Not really. I don't think I can name a single time I felt the need for what others had, especially when my life was pretty excellent. And it was probably true - that I never felt such a special kind of rage - when it seemed so surreal the second I watched that tanned Hispanic girl shoot a perfect basket from a long range. She dribbled it twice, stuck out her tongue in concentration, and in it went, so smooth and perfectly.

I was simply appalled. A girl standing at a mere five foot two shot a perfect basket on the first try. Perhaps she practiced more. Perhaps she was from a town so boring and out of order, there was nothing to do but shoot hoops all day. I mean, she did seem a little Mexican.

Confused? Let's start over. Rewind and jog my own memory cause, frankly, I'm still having a hard time believing it. It's after school and it's Thursday so of course I say goodbye to Stan and make my way over to the gym where each basketball practice was held. My team was put together on the whim that I would put into each other. I change into my attire; white shorts and shirt with the South Park cow logo on it. And when I step back out, my team is doing what they usually do.

Nothing.

Take Vean for example. Nice guy. Very calm and I applaud him for not cause as much trouble as one like Reggie would. But he seems resistant to go lengths for the game so I'm forced to forbid him from smoking in gym. This ticks him off a little but in the end, it works out. He steals the looks of an stereotypical sixties hippie. On purpose - I don't know. But I doubt a twenty-first century child would mistakenly grow out his hair past his shoulders and possess three hundred different tye-die outfits. So I give the nice guy the benefit of the doubt.

Then there's Tuesday Acqua. I think she only joined basketball because she's my best friend and wanted to spend leisure time in my presence but she's tall and pretty amazing at the sport so I didn't mind a bit. She's rich, too, so her outfit is a bit different than everyone else's. It's red and made out of denim. The shorts hug the top of her hips and the shirt is definitely tighter. I wanted to explain to her it didn't seem to fair but she just has this way of talking that made me push the subject aside. On the other hand, it does seem to fit nice with her long, orange hair and curvy body stature.

That's Reggie Rox. He loves to make puns out of his last name and I won't go into explanation how. Reggie is the kind that just doesn't care and sort of does what he does - very much unlike his Oscar-winning brother, Chad. However, I tend to admire his spunk but sometimes, he refuses to follow my orders as team captain. I believe he joined because Chad wants more extra curriculum in his grades, yet I don't think he really _hates _basketball. Which is most probably why it didn't take much for him to agree.

Addie McVim is an interesting story that even I, a person who's known her since childhood, still hasn't exactly figured out. Her, like Mallory Sacramento's, outfit consists of a dense variety of black shades. Addie walked around held her head up in a sort of pride that sometimes I wish I possessed. We dated once, back in the third grade, but she was always a bit too - how do I put this? - rough. I was simply relieved when she didn't go Carrie Underwood on me and beat my nonexistant car with a Louie Slugger after I suggested we stay friends.

And there's Elsa Hunter, who I didn't have much of an opinion toward. Aside from her stunning good looks and nicely shaped body, I didn't speak to her often enough to decide whether her personality - the subject that struck my curiosity most - was something I could tolerate or not. Either way, she follows directions finely and isn't too bad with wide shots. I'm very glad to have her on the team.

And there's my team; a couple of freedom writers. A real breakfast club. If I said I wasn't proud, I'd be lying through my teeth.

These observations were kicked right off my head when Butters came scampering up to me like a dog in heat. I quirked my eyebrow in his direction as he fell over his own feet and whimpering in pain.

"H-Hey, fellas."

"Butters. Wassup, dude?" Vean greeted, forming a lopsided chagrin and holding up a single palm.

"Butters, you okay?" Elsa question. But she didn't bother helping the poor naive boy up. I allowed some air to escape my lips at the realization Butters was most likely running to deliver me news that I already knew and disrupting my practice. It's a ritual that had been going on for generations and many more to come. I almost considered not giving him the satisfaction of asking what was up but figured he would explode if I didn't.

"What's wrong?" I asked him and mentally slapped myself doing so. "I thought you were hanging out with Mallory today

"I-I was! But Kevin Stoley said his sister knew this man who worked at the Tweak Bros who told him that-"

"Get to the point," Addie harshly cut in, annoyance oozing from his vocal cords. Resisting the urge to kiss her in appreciation, I nodded for him to go on.

"There's a new kid in South Park."

Commotion struck. Tuesday's reaction was first, I noted, when she flung the sketchpad she was previously assaulting across the room and raced up to Butters. Vean stopped twirling his string. Reggie's head popped up from the video game he was playing. Elsa's face lit up as she allowed her book bag to carelessly splatter on the floor. Addie rolled her eyes, clearly not interested in the conversation, but perhaps utter amusement was the reason she joined the club.

"Is it a boy?"

"What's their name?"

"Are they hot?"

"Where did they come from?"

"We haven't had a new kid in years!"

"This so isn't worth my time."

Butters' eyes flashed with the prediction of a nervous breakdown. He didn't like attention, this I knew from past events, at least not to much of it. Too much pressure, I believe was the quote? How is it I've never seen him with Tweek?

"Guys, hush up!" I exclaimed, for the last thing I needed was a crying Butters. Silent waves rushed over the five beings. Signaling Butters to go on, I took a step back towards to door so as not to be stuck in the center of all the questions. See what I mean about me keeping them under control?

Butters continued, "Look, all I know is it's a pair of twins. A boy and a girl. Th-They're from Miami so I don't know why they'd want to move to a place like this."

"Oh my God, Jersey Shore is in Miami!" Elsa gushed. Her obsession was Jersey Shore was a feature that made her Elsa Salsa.

"Oh my God, I need to tell Nick!" Tuesday said, whipping out her expensive looking phone, scrolling down through her contacts, and pressing the device to her ear.

Vean's uneven fingernails scratched the halfheartedly shaven area of his chin."I wonder if the guy is hot..." Oh, yeah, did I mention he's bisexual? I, of course, don't have a problem with those who like the same gender but I'd just like to take this moment to say I'm straight. Sorry to disappoint those (like Bebe) who, at some point, considered me to swing that way. For an unknown reason, I was suddenly intrigued by the new members to Colorado, as well. My feet found their way back into the circle of mess.

Tuesday, shoving her phone back in her pocket, announced, "I had Rixon deliver them a surround sound system as a welcome gift."

"How did you know where they lived?" I asked her.

"Kyle, babe. There's only going to be one house with a moving van in the driveway. Can't be that hard." Her phone buzzed. She whipped it out and stared at glowing screen, a wide cheshire grin crafting. "He just found the house now. Oh, if I could only see their faces."

I adjusted my ushanka to a comfortable position. The suggestion of cancelling practice today struck my mind and I think I might have considered it. No doubt the thought of invading the space of newcomers would be the main topic of entire session. Which is something I honestly couldn't understand: Yes, the last person that was new here was Laura and her brother, Lloyd. This was almost six years ago and it wasn't a doubt the two had grown accustomed to South Park's antics. I can't exactly remember how much of a stir there was when those two arrived but if something as sudden as now could be so...annoying, I can only imagine when there was an anticipated arrival.

"They're coming to the school tomorrow," Butters said. "I-I guess you can meet them then."

Reggie, concocting his own little mixture of ecstasy and pessimistic abnormality, responded, "Fuck that. I'll stop by after practice. It shouldn't be hard to find. Tuesday's right; it should be the only house with a moving van."

Tuesday beamed.

My turn. "Oh, guys, practice is cancelled for today."

"Huh?" Elsa mouth twisted in confusion.

"Why the fuck is that?" fumed Addie, who I believe actually enjoyed the adrenaline rushes of each run-through we had. And I admit, it did seem pretty nice to feel sweaty and dirty after being caught in toe-freezing weather each and every day.

"I just remembered I had to take Sadie to the movies today. She really wanted to go see The Green Hornet, so..." And I slipped away without any further explanation.

"Well, peace!" was the last thing I heard escape from Reggie's mouth before exiting the gym.

* * *

** Wow. I finished a chapter. One that I don't completely hate. In just four hours. I feel quite proud of myself. Perhaps my writers block is taking a hike? Well, I won't get too ahead of myself here. I'll try to update again soon, loves. I apologize to all the OC's who didn't make an appearance yet. ** **Which would be:**

** Nicholas Acqua**

** Adrian Keenan**

** Sadie Broflovski and Mallory Sacramento**

** Laura and Lloyd McCarthy**

** These sexy OC's will make an appearance in the next chapter. -heart-**

** Oh, and Speaking of Green Hornets, guess who's going to see that movie tomorrow? Oh, yeah. Me. -heart-**


	2. Chapter 2

1**The Green Hornet just may have been one of the best movies I've ever seen. Wait, no. It was.**

**I'm hooked.**

**I'm in love.**

**I want to marry Britt and Kato.**

**And I'm on a mission to finish all Green Hornet episodes ever. The theme song is my ringtone. The comic books and DVDs WILL be mine. No spoilers right now, though, as much as I'd want to continue ranting about it. Onto the chapter I will go.

* * *

**

_Kyle's POV_

The first thing I spotted when entering my average home was Sadie lounging on the couch with a pound of pudding on her lap and The Outsiders playing on TV. Her obsession with that movie was almost enough for me to dislike it and her obsession with Johnny Cade was already enough to me to dislike him. I kicked off my shoes by the door, hung my backpack on the nail, and allowed myself to fall directly on top of Sadie's feet which happened to be lazily lounging on the cushions.. She grimaced at my actions and slid them out from under me, using them as a weapon to kick my shoulder lightly.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were at basketball practice."

"I cancelled it for today. Too much commotion on the damn new kids. Tuesday sent them a freaking surround sound system and I can only assume Reggie is over there right now." My arms folded across my chest as a matter of frustration as my back found it's back to the large red balls of cotton and fabric. "I'll bet you they're not even that great. Like that one Mormon kid that moved here in third grade. What are you watching?" I was very fully aware of what she was watching but I was sure Sadie didn't like my ranting so I twisted it to a subject she would enjoy replying to, instead of the usual, 'Hmm,' sound she made when I spoke about matters she didn't care about.

"I liked Gary," Sadie defended. "He was kind of cute. And you know what I'm watching," Her face turning to smile widely at Johnny Cade's quivering face, "Besides, they're twins. How many twins do we have in South Park? None. Quite a few siblings but no twins. Maybe they're joined at the hip or something."

I was going to reply in a non-tranquil state how they certainly didn't seem fine to me for interrupting my practice but my mind took the a different turn as realization struck me that Sadie was very well aware at the new arrival yet she had made no effort to join the rest and greet them. "Wait, why aren't you going ape shit for them?"

"Like you said, it's no big deal. I'll meet them when I want to. Maybe they're as shy Laura and Lloyd and will crack at all the attention they're getting. Remember when they were new? I brought them roses and Lloyd thought I was crushing on Laura. That was _hilarious."_

As of now, Sadie was in her own little world of comical memories but I simply tuned her out and lazily rolled my head back toward the television just in time to hear Johnny whisper the worlds, "Stay golden, Ponyboy."

_Laura's POV_

"I don't see why we have to go say hi," Llody muttered, dragging him feet on the snow as we headed down Tucker street. "I'm missing Hairspay. The original. Not the crappy one with Zac Efron. Do you know how many times they show that one on TV? Not that many." I looked up at my older brother, who stood much higher than I did with a mixture of my small stature and his out-of-control growth spurts. No one would ever believe he was a mere four years older.

I said, "Hey, I'm missing Desperate Housewives, too, but it's only the polite thing to do. I only hope Tuesday didn't give them a private jet like she did with us. Besides, we're going to New York in the Summer. You can see it then."

Lloyd pouted.

"Fine. How do you know where they live?"

"It's the only house with a moving van. Just look for one." He grunted in a forceful tone and sped up the momentum in his steps. I did as well to catch up with him. Once we entered Baywood circle, I looked on the second house to the right and my smile grew twice as large. I pointed at the massive orange moving van. "L-Look. There it is."

"Gre-eat," Lloyd said but before taking off towards the house, he bent down and retrieved a small rock covered in solid ice. My eyes grew twice as large as I watched him cautiously rub down the ice with his gloves until there was nothing but a piece of charcoal lying in the center of his palm.

"Lloyd! Y-You're not going to throw that at them, are you?"

All I needed was his bewildered look to tell me I was mistaken. "What? No! I just wanted a nice rock."

"It looks more like charcoal to me," I muttered, eying the dark shape. Lloyd could be so spontaneous at times. As much alike as we were, he was slightly more charismatic than I could be. If someone messed with my friends, I'd be mad and probably say something I'd later regret but Lloyd doesn't stop and think before performing anything drastic. He slides on the brass knuckles he carries around his jeans (I can see the bulge in his pockets right now) and makes them scamper away. It's sometimes scary to watch, yet flattering to have such a great big brother.

A loud thud chased away my thoughts. "Oh!" someone gasped and our heads snapped in unison towards the unfamiliar voice. It was a girl on the front steps of her home, mouth gaping mournfully at the splattered pile of clothes. I could clearly see why she was so devastated; the original shade of each clothing had switched darker from the contact with the frozen water.

Lloyd tossed his precious little rock over his shoulder and raced to the scene. I watched him take off for a moment but snapped to my senses and followed after him, obviously not as fast, though. "Hey!" Lloyd called as he jogged like a champion with his own theme music to the scene. He bent down and began gathering all the belongings and wringing the cold water out of them.

"Oh, hello," the girl replied. Her eyes were impressed. Perhaps from the hicks outside of town, she didn't expect people to be so hospitable. "Y-You don't have to do that. I've got it."

"Naw, it's okay," Lloyd protested, squeezing the liquid out of a pair of black jeans. I took a good look at the pair. They seemed somewhat expensive, along with the rest of her clothes. She was from Miami, no? I could have sworn Kenny mentioned to me once that Miami was as ghetto as his neighborhood. So the fancy clothes were quite uncanny to my suspicion. Perhaps Butters information was wrong. "I'm Lloyd. This is my sister, Laura. I hear you're the new kid."

"Hello," I quietly greeted but kept my head and voice low.

"So has everyone else. You're not the first to be here. Two boys named Reggie and Chad were here earlier and some man in a tux delivered me a surround sound from a, um, Tuesday Acqua? Isn't that the name of a day in a week?"

"It is," I replied, giggling at her response. "Tuesday can be very straightforward. I'm surprised she hasn't come by yet."

It was now I took a very close look at her. She was a few inches taller then me, which still created much jealousy, and thin, light brown hair that went in waves down to her waist. Her skin was very dark. Not black at all, yet immensely tan. Large brown eyes went with the rest of her thin, noodle-like shape. And when she spoke, I believe it was a Spanish accent I detected?

"We haven't asked you your name yet," Lloyd said, folding the last damp clothing and placing it in the box. "What is it?"

"I'm Christy Clearwater," she responded, beaming once more at my brother. However, her mouth twisted when Lloyd gripped the handle ends of the box and began leading it inside. "No, no, no!" she called out, getting in his way before he could enter. "You've done enough, truly. I'll take it now."

"Are you sure?"

She gave him a light smile in reassurance. "Yes, yes, I'm sure." Sending her one more unsure look, Lloyd bent down from his high frame and handed her the box. Her skinny arms wobbled from the weight and, I assume giving up, she can tossed it to the side. It landed with a loud THUD, kicking up dust and dirt into the atmosphere. "I'll have my brother carry it in later. He's much more, um, stronger. I guess."

"Oh, really?" I inquired. My previous load of sweets gave me a little more perseverance in asking people questions. "What's his name?"

She said, "Nathan. But I'd advice you not to talk to him."

"Why is that?"

"Because look at you. You're adorable." My cheeks became a strawberry red. "He'll want to hit on you, no doubt." She look at Lloyd. "And you look like you don't want your little sister being molested by my retard brother, would you?"

Lloyd's face became disgruntled, as if he was playing out the very scene of him massacring this Nathan character like a movie in his mind. Turning and head and spitting past his lips onto the snow, he gave me a hesitant look. A very familiar hesitant look. It revealed that he wanted to go and he wanted to go now. Not wanting to argue with his questioning, I gave Christy an appreciative smile and said, "Thank you. I think we need to go now but it was nice talking to you. Will we see you in school tomorrow?"

"I believe so. We'll see how settled in I am by then."

"Alright. Take care," Lloyd said. His oversized shoes kicked off a large chunk of snow, sending it scattering in every direction like a miniature white explosion. I followed.

_Nathan's POV_

The name's Nathan. There's nothing special about it. It doesn't have some special foreign meaning that positively or negatively represents my personality. It's just Nathan Clearwater and nothing else. I personally wouldn't have it any other way because I'd most likely turn out to be gay or emo or some sort of meeting in between of the two. Watch as I shudder at the thought. If you must know anything about me, it's that I hate doing things for people. It urks me to know that something or someone is depending on me and if I can't do it right, well, it's all my fault, aint it?

There's not much wrong you can do with picking up groceries, right? Walk in, gather the things on the list, pay for the, walk out, get on with life but you're wrong. Very fucking wrong. They could not have the thing you're looking for and when you tell your mom that, she doesn't believe you. Or the line could be extremely long and your mom gets ticked off, claiming you stopped to hit on a random chick in the streets (which may or may not be true.) Or the product could have cost more than what your _darling _mother believed and she accuses you of spending it on condoms or French fries or all of the above.

There's no justice in life, I tell you.

And why she keeps sending me out to do shit for her, I'll never know. In my left hand was a thick leather steering wheel belonging to a run down green chevy pick-up truck and in my right was a crumpled up sticky note that had lost it's stick, holding the grand list of supplies.

_Milk_

_Bleach_

_Dog food_

_Hamburger beef_

_Gorilla glue_

_Pillow covers_

_Double A batteries _

Can't beat that sexy list, not by a long shot. I identified the small messy handwriting in the corner as mine. It read:

_French fries and condoms_

I don't blame myself for feeling the urge to add it in. She doesn't want me dying of lack of sodium chloride and getting a girl pregnant, does she? Lord forbid the second one occurred. Using my fingers to crumble up the sticky note, I adjusted my mirror and relaxed the arm I loved most. There was a dark blue Volkswagen riding at a first speed behind me. I was that if there was another alone for her to use, she would have taken it as a chance to pass right by me. Mind you, I'm not a slow person and would kill to move faster but this God forsaken pick-up only goes so fast. I shouldn't complain. It's my first car. It's name is Britt Reives but it didn't take too long for me to address it as, "that lousy piece of shit car."

My entire body jolted up in the air suddenly. The car did, as well, which became the cause of the impact my head had with the car ceiling. A few sputters from the tank was all it took for my eyes to widen. I slammed my oversized foot on the break. It stopped. My blue pupils wandered around the engines from my seats and nothing seemed wrong; a full tank, long mileage, nothing out of place. But the smell of burnt rubber still lingered.

This shit, I can't believe it. I slammed the car door and followed to the engine where I lifted the hood. There was no smoke or anything else wrong, yet this lousy piece of shit car still refused to budge.

"Agh!" was the animalistic noise that escaped my clenched teeth as I slammed the car hood back down. Then it hit me. Not really but I could feet it; one shoulder higher than the other. I looked down. The car is slanted and definitely not as high as it was when I pulled out of the driveway. Upon this realization, my blinded anger died down and I followed the frame of my surrounding. It's snow, trees, and a poorly paved road. Not even a house from a distance.

A car door slammed shut.

"Hey!" a voice called. My eyebrows fly high up. It was obviously feminine, yet low in a sort of way that told myself to be prepared. The upper area of my body shifted to the right, where what I was sure had to be a girl making my way. Maybe I'm exaggerating here. It was clearly a girl, but she looked so...different.

Thick brown hair that fell mere inches past her shoulders. It wasn't that hair or eyes or face that bothered me - tossing away the growling expression she possessed - but the clothes. Never had I seen a girl wear such careless clothing. For a body so thin and easy to show off, she covered it up with a gradually large hoodie and baggy dark blue jeans. Her fists were furled in a way I had them commonly when getting ready to hit someone. Luckily for me, I stood a proud two extra feet taller and even for a girl so, well, unfamiliar could never be able to hurt me.

"What the fuck are you doing in the middle of the road, asshole? School is hell for me and I'd rather be at home and not standing in the middle of the streets with a wannabe jock."

I didn't know this girl so it wasn't a secret I had not grow accustomed on what to answer when she spoke. My fingers found it's way to the top of my shaggy, ear-length black hair and rubbed it back and forth. "Now, I don't believe you have the right to talk to me like that, young lady. Why don't you back our your little blue car and take the other turn instead, hm?" My famous shit-eating grin appeared as with a more evidential anger in her tone.

"I don't have time to go the long way. Move this piece of shit truck. Now."

"Or what?" Teeth showing through my smirk.

"Or I'll get rid of the rest for you." Menacing, probably, but not convincing. On the other hand, I hadn't known her for more than two minutes, which I didn't believe was enough time to understand which was convincing and which was a playful threat. Judging from her looks, I doubt this chick would ever play around. However, I did, and it sure was fun to do it with her.

"Try me, then. I dare you," I said, scooting in closer to her small stature. Her dark eyes narrowed. And she turned on her heels to the car. This moment of victory officially belongs to Nathan Clearwater. Just as I had finished reciting a speech in the back of my noggin, the girl comes back out of her car. With a bat. And my stomach flops.

"Move," she growled, heading directly for the drivers window.

"Wait-wait-wait!" I scrambled in her way and blocked the window just as she was about to hit. "Don't do that! I know it's shitty but I'm the only dude out of my friends who has a car and you see the seats in here? They're leather. Glass cuts leather. I'd rather not have my toes getting stuck in holes when I'm doing a girl in the front seat. Hole covered leather is not attractive!"

The girl reminisced my speech with a disdained expression and eyes burning right through me, digging a hole at the window. I'll bet she was playing out a movie in her mind where the bat made such an impact with the window, Charles Manson's eye twitched ever so slightly in the thousands of miles away he lay in. But her reoccurring daggers followed down to the bottom of the truck. They lifted - just a little bit.

"Your tires," she said and I mentally let out a sigh of relief. Then I reviewed what she spoke.

"My tires?"

"They're flat."

"Oh..." Moments after that. "Wait, what?" I abruptly tore from my position and stood a considerate distance from view of my previous white and black tires. Sure enough, the front one was deflated and dead whilst the others were eagerly wondering when, oh when, would they be running again. "_Nooo!" _I wailed. My poor three hundred dollar tire - the only decent feature out of the entire poorly imaged truck - was ruined. It would take months to gain the money up for a replacement. I'd have to walk to my new school. _Walk. _

The girl laughed, "Better call a tow truck, dick." In just a few short moments, she was backing out of the deserted road and taking the last right her, flashing her licence with sharpie written in capital letters: _**CHARLIE WHITE.

* * *

**_

**This chapter was weak. Didn't like it. Total filler. But hello there, Laura, Lloyd, and Charlie. You are finally introduced to this story. I couldn't leave Ms. White out of here; she's too badass. **

**No, I'm not ignoring this story. I actually **_**want **_**to updated, surprisingly. I'm just busy with school, video games, and watching the entire Green Hornet series. Is there a Green Hornet archive on here? Oh, please, God, tell me there is. **

**Holla~**

**P.S. I will be using more OCs in the next chapter so don't worry if I haven't used yours yet. I will. Trust me. -heart-**


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